


the kids aren't alright

by cantfoolajoker (lichmutual)



Category: Persona 3, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Persona 3 References, Persona 3 Spoilers, Persona 5 Spoilers, he's like 18 like how his bday lines up with akechi, onesided/unrequinted akira/haru, outright akishinji but its not relevant enough for a whole tag, teenager ken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-01-02 21:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21167825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lichmutual/pseuds/cantfoolajoker
Summary: In the face of the claimed suicide of Akira Kurusu, Ken takes some time to think about his time in Tokyo and finds meaning in his encounters up until the day of November 21st.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally pegoken with a side of ken analysis but now it’s a ken character study with a side of pegoken apparently

Ken: Hey, what is this about the Phantom Thief leader committing suicide?? What happened to Akira?

…

Makoto: We can’t disclose the information just yet.

Ken: What does that even mean? What happened to Akira?

Makoto: No offense, but this kind of reaction is why we couldn’t tell you anything.

A fist collided against a desk in a lone apartment, knocking over some papers and a pencil that caused an old dog to whine in worry. The phone screen was aggressively tapped at, audible as a response was formed and sent.

Ken: Makoto, I want answers and I want them now.

Makoto: Please give us time, Ken. I know this is confusing and hard.

_ She doesn’t get it because she’s the one in the know and I’m not. _

Makoto: Meet us at Leblanc tomorrow around noon. We’ll explain everything.

Makoto: I’m sorry.

…

The lack of further response frustrated Ken to no end, his knuckles growing white from where he was pressing his nails into his palm in anger. What kind of answer was that? There was something up- clear as the sun in the day and the moon in the night. He hadn’t gotten any answers from the others, being left on read for Makoto to come talk to him like he was a kid.

Revelations about his maturity or lack thereof aside, the brunet felt the way a wave of exhaustion came over him, deciding to take a seat on the bed in his small apartment, occupied by just himself and a certain furry resident, who decided to join him on the bed with a huff and a worried whine. Koromaru was always a comfort to Ken; it was why he’d been allowed to bring him along for this mission Mitsuru asked him to take. He was the youngest of the shadow operatives after all, which she’d told him he could have his badge back on graduation if he wanted it after this mission was over, which he did want, admittedly. 

He tried to live as normal as he could with what he experienced, something most normal ten year olds never had to deal with. Personas? Shadows? The Collective Conscious? None of those things meant anything to normal people. He’d tried to fit in; played soccer, helped clean up after school like a good kid, made acquaintances and friends. None of it really stuck with him though, didn’t stick with him like how he felt during the Dark Hour, running with his upperclassmen and spear in hand with the ever present force of Kala-Nemi with him. Bringing up a tentative hand, he scratched Koromaru’s ear, feeling his body slump as he exhaled through his nose sharply with a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding in. 

Shujin Academy had been a new step forward for him. Mitsuru told him to go there and examine the activity they were tracking that could be possibly related to shadows. The reveal of the abuse done by the hand of the Olympic medal gym coach certainly piqued the interest across the board at the time, not to mention the first appearance of the self proclaimed Phantom Thieves of Heart, correcting the wicked.

Akihiko had cut in, asking, _ “Is it safe for him to go? Shouldn’t one of us go with him?” _

Ken had sighed and shook his head._ “I’m not a kid anymore, Akihiko-san.” _ That was what he’d said, hand on his hip and eyes closed in disappointment at his caretaker’s lack of faith in him. Or maybe Akihiko had just been worried about his safety since these were very much not inhuman things that could be taken care of with a Persona and a weapon, but a realistic situation where he would have to play inside the rules normal people had to follow, something very few people were able to do.

He did see first hand someone who did it, with an air of confidence and a spark of mischief. The other students at Shujin whispered about him behind his back, mentioning something about being on probation. Physical assault crime. Expelled with no where else to go but this academy that wanted to look good reforming a juvenile criminal. Ken knew what to expect from the details of what he did, but the guy himself was a mystery; he tried not to judge a book by its cover, he’d learned that by being in S.E.E.S., as there was always levels to a person beyond how they presented themselves. 

The guy looked unassuming. Thick black hair hid a lot of his facial features, with black framed glasses blending in amongst the mess of curls and sharp gray eyes accented by long eyelashes. He wore his uniform correctly, something Ken couldn’t even say he did himself, not wanting to give up the bit of orange he always liked to wear in the form of a vest over his shirt. The guy seemed to mostly keep to himself, though he displayed a confident aura that warded others away from him at first glance, but that could have just been an imagined thing spurred by rumors of him. He was usually seen with a fashionable girl and a delinquent boy, an unlikely trio of sorts, but according to the information Ken had gotten from eavesdropping on his peers, they had gotten out of getting expelled by Kamoshida together before he had confessed to his crimes. 

Ken knew better. He’d been there and done that, so to say. 

The brunet had taken the chance and approached him one day, seeing him shuffle things in his bag while seated at the table near the vending machine just outside of the two linked school buildings that led to the courtyard. The guy perked at the sound of Ken approaching, mumbling something before closing his bag, and Ken noted the behavior with a quirk of his eyebrow but didn’t comment on it in fear of scaring him off. He played his approach off as getting something from the vending machine, inputting the number for a water and stepping back to wait for it to drop. The drop didn’t come though, the plastic getting caught on the release mechanism in the machine. It froze up and paused, processing its situation before reading as transaction complete, and Ken was now out of some yen and a water.

A frown had come over his features and he slowly felt his confidence in the situation drain from his body, mixing with his always present anxiety. Well, shit, this was just embarrassing.

_ “Did your drink get stuck?” _ the brunet had heard a voice ask beside him, and Ken turned, seeing the messy haired student looking at him with curiosity. Ken couldn’t find it in himself to respond at the time, and he’s partially glad he didn’t, or else he wouldn’t have seen the way the guy’s gray eyes lit up in a way that made his heart pause and a smile that could have caused someone to go blind with the way it shined.

Ken didn’t believe in judging a book by its cover. He wasn’t judging this book, though; more like admiring its cover, intrigued and mystified like he’d just found what he was looking for.

_ “Let me help you,” _ the guy’s voice had brought Ken’s thoughts back to the situation at hand. Getting up and moving to crouch down, the brunet watched as he pulled his sleeve back and stuck his hand into the receival slot and up into the machine, angling himself so he could knock the water bottle down from the second row. 

_ “You don’t have to-” _ Ken had started, though he was cut off by the loud _ clunk _ and the grin in success as the guy pulled his arm out with a water bottle in hand.

_ “It’s no problem,” _ he was told, and the second year bowed his head in respect. _ “Wouldn’t have wanted to let the new-er kid suffer,” _ the guy laughed, an easy air settling between them like Ken was speaking to an old friend when he hadn’t even known his name at the time. The aura the guy gave off was familiar; it reminded Ken of someone he knew, a quiet student who always seemed to be lost in music and headphones. It was an intoxicating aura to be in.

_ “New-er kid? I don’t think that’s the proper way to talk to your upperclassman,” _ Ken had teased in return, relaxing with ease as he took the water bottle. 

_ “What should I address you as then?” _The crossed arms and twinkle in his eyes made Ken chuckle, a smile slipping on his features.

_ “Amada Ken. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” _

_ “Amada-senpai.” _ A nod was given in acknowledgement as the name rolled off his tongue. 

_ “I’m Kurusu Akira. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” _

_ “Kurusu-kun,” _ Ken repeated back in affirmation, and he extended a hand for Akira to shake, which was received well with a firm grip and a smile that Ken couldn’t help but return. The guy’s charm was just through the roof.

Their introduction was interrupted by another student, the delinquent Ken had identified previously. He was on friendly terms with him now, but Ken remembered the untrusting glare and sneer he received at his presence. _ “What’s up, Akira?” _ he asked, making a point to ignore Ken and what he could possibly be saying to his friend, and Ken wasn’t as offended by it as he could have been. The slouched stance with hands stuffed in pockets reminded Ken of someone dear, someone who was much softer than he let on, and Ken learned this was an equally accurate observation of Ryuji’s character- though it wasn’t like he was going to tell him that at any point soon.

Feeling the mass of white fur shift in his lap, Ken was brought back to the present, the reality of the situation holding a grip on him in a way he couldn’t describe. Leaning over, the brunet was greeted to a face full of fluff, which he was pretty alright with as the silence of the apartment settled in between Koromaru’s soft panting and Ken’s breathing. They sat like that for a while, an amount of time that Ken wasn’t even aware of passing by, and suddenly Koromaru was wiggling his way out of Ken’s lap at 8 P.M. and tugging on his pant leg so he would make something to eat. 

“Thank you, Koro-chan,” Ken muttered, patting his loyal companion’s head and earning a happy yip and a tail wag in return as he pushed himself to make something. Curry was out of the question; he didn’t want to think about it. Think about Akira. Instant noodles were quick and easy to make, so that was what he settled on, though his stomach felt heavy and full regardless.

Noon at Leblanc tomorrow. That was where he’d be.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is where the fic went from simple rarepair indulgence to a character study in writing

Leblanc had a comforting atmosphere; at least, to Ken it did.

He found himself frequenting it at the suggestion of Akira, only to find out it was run by his current guardian and Akira happened to sometimes work there as well. The cafe was quaint, peaceful even, possessing a home-like atmosphere that easily made anyone who walked in feel welcome. The whole experience was certainly aided by the fatherly way Sojiro acted, reminding Ken of Akihiko back in Iwatodai City. He’d called him later that day afterwards, feeling the heavy way his heart hung at the memory of his friends.

It wasn’t like he was lonely though, per say. He found frequenting Leblanc opened him up to the other Phantom Thieves, though granted he hadn’t known that was who the group was at the time. They were rag-tag and bound together by their want to help others, and Ken had yearned to be apart of it, wanting some semblance of his former friend group now that the others were grown up and he was still just a kid to them.

He found familiarity in some of them. Ryuji was easy to befriend once you got past his initial hard shell, with a sense of loyalty that could potentially rival Koromaru if the dog wasn’t defined by it. He remembered introducing the two; they had gotten along like two peas in a pod, with Ryuji even offering to take Koromaru on walks so he could stretch out his leg. Ken had taken him up on it, finding his time to do so himself was dwindling with the amount of work he had to do as a third year. Koromaru had been pleased with the arrangement, which made Ken feel the decision was for the best.

Ann had an older sister aura to her, despite being a year younger than him. He remembered her prodding at his choice of colored vest, blue eyes narrowed in an almost judging gaze that made Ken want to shrink back just a bit. She had hummed, nodded her head, and told him orange was a nice color on him. It was a bright color, a bold choice to make the centerpiece for an outfit, but someone with confidence could pull it off, and she had smiled a charming smile Ken was pretty certain only models possessed, though given her job, he wasn’t surprised she had one. Ann had offered after about going to get melon pan, surprised Ken had never had any, and he’d taken her up on it, finding it easier to talk to her than he did speaking to Yukari nowadays.

His orange vest was the main topic of conversation with someone else; Yusuke had given him a look too, though his was more calculated, thoughtful and observant. The painter needed to be snapped out of his thoughts after an awkward period of silent staring, and he had shaken his head, eyes closed and smiling with a soft huff of a chuckle. He’d explained orange was a unique color; a color some associated with sunsets, with warmth and relaxation, though it was also associated change, the same way green leaves of summer turned orange in the fall before they fell off completely. Ken wasn’t one for in depth color analysis, nor was he sure how to respond to Yusuke’s keen observation, though Yusuke was never one for dwelling on pauses in conversation, instead switching the topic easily to Koromaru and about sketching him one day. It was a social skill Ken wasn’t sure anyone else could master, but he also didn’t think it was something Yusuke even acknowledged himself. Yusuke’s wandering observations were still a delightful insight to hear what was going on in the painter’s mind anyway.

Makoto was formal without the confidence Mitsuru had. Ken could see she had the potential to be a good individual in charge, already the student council president when he had arrived at Shujin, but she didn’t have a sense of self. She responded to other’s becks and calls without concern for her own well being or what she wanted, something Ken could understand from the same position he was in as the youngest of the shadow operatives. He saw how she changed though when she interacted with the Thieves; changed for the better, like how flowers change when they go from buds to bloom. It was a change Ken could feel in himself, too, the longer he hung around them, shedding his outer layer and beginning to find the presence of everyone else enjoyable. He’d brought it up in passing one day to Makoto, and she had paused, looking surprised before smiling and laughing it off, saying something along the lines of how Akira’s confidence must be a good influence for her. Ken didn’t say it out loud, but he was inclined to agree, feeling the same effect from their leader.

Another person blessed by Akira’s confidence was Futaba. She was quiet at first, not even daring to sit anywhere near Ken when she showed up at Leblanc, but Akira’s coaxing got her to at least sit herself a seat away from Ken, wanting to be with her friend despite the stranger she didn’t know. Ken had looked for a way to drag a conversation out of her, and by relying on some of the information Fuuka had told him about computers and other technology related things, he was able to get her talking at miles an hour. Granted, he didn’t know enough to keep up, but seeing the way she smiled endeared her to Ken, but the real attention catcher was the way Akira tried to hide a grin, turning his back to them and cleaning glasses. Ken couldn’t stop the blood rushing to his ears, and unlucky for him, Futaba had caught on, with one glance between the two of them telling her everything she needed to know. Ken wasn’t certain he wanted a little sister, but Futaba was nice company whenever he spent time with her, even if she teased him.

Haru had equally caught on to whatever Ken was feeling, though she told him they were in the same boat, sitting on the benches on the roof of the school while the sun beat down on the plants in the garden Haru tended. Ken was confused at first, his cheeks firing up in a similar way to when Futaba accused him of “catching feelings” or whatever that meant. Haru had only giggled, polite and amused, telling him it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Ken wasn’t sure what there was to be ashamed of to begin with, but she explained, asking him what he thought of Akira.

_ “I think he’s cool,” _ Ken had replied, shrugging his shoulders high enough to nearly meet his pink cheeks.

_ “And?” _ Haru pressed, giving him a knowing look. Was he really that much of an open book?

_ “A-And I think he has a nice smile,” _ Ken added on, sounding like he was uncertain of his own statement. 

Haru had smiled, getting up and grabbing her shovel as Ken’s eyes followed her.  _ “Ken-kun, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but he isn’t going to sit around forever.” _

_ “What does that even mean?” _

_ “It means other people have their eyes on him too,”  _ Haru told him, turning to face him, and when Ken met her eyes he understood her unspoken insinuation.  _ “I don’t want you to think of me as a competitor, but I will say, if you hurt his feelings, you’ll be inclined to answer to me as well.” _

Ken had accepted that with a nod and an affirmative, deciding he didn’t want to be on the end of an axe, not when he had been able to escape it before when he was younger and dumber. Haru didn’t bring it up directly after that, though whenever Akira did something- anything, really, he was a sight to behold- Haru would glance at Ken and offer a knowing look and a giggle, hiding behind her hands as Ken blushed and looked away.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to acknowledge his crush on Akira; quite the contrary, he was well aware that it was there. Mainly, he’d just never had any experience on how to handle it. He had run through the list of people he could ask one night while cooking dinner for him and Koromaru, finding himself coming up short. Yukari was absolutely a no go. Mitsuru was a wiggly hand, though she was busy, and he didn’t want to bother her with any questions about teenage feelings. Fuuka could have been a good bet if she wasn’t so shy, and Aigis was, well, Aigis, through and through.

Ken decided asking Junpei wasn’t going to get him anywhere, which left him with one last option, who apparently knew he was thinking about him. Ken’s phone went off and Akihiko’s name flashed on the screen as the theme of _Phoenix Ranger Featherman R_ blared through the tinny speaker. Was he ever going to change his ring tone? Probably not.

Answering his phone, Ken hit the speaker button as he heard Akihiko cough to clear his throat.  _ “Dad?” _ he’d asked, slipping into the old habit when they were alone, and he knew it made Akihiko happy just as much as it has always done, the sound crackling as Akihiko laughed.

_ “How’re you doing, Ken?” _ he had asked while Ken stirred the curry sauce in the pot, rereading the recipe Akira had given him in his curly and loose script on the back of some discarded worksheet from class. The personalness of it should not have made Ken as giddy as it had, but he wasn’t going to deny it.

_ “Good,” _ Ken answered, trying to be short and simple. Akihiko could read him better than that though, and he was aware of this, even when they weren’t face to face.

_ “ _ Just  _ good?”  _ his caretaker pressed, making Ken sigh through his nose as he went to grab another pot and his tub of rice.

_ “You caught me,” _ Ken laughed, filling the pot with water and shoveling rice in equal amounts to start cooking it.  _ “I was just thinking about calling you, honestly.” _

That had gotten an interested hum out of Akihiko, and there was a pause in their conversation, both parties waiting for further comment before Ken finally chuckled.  _ “You’re not gonna ask why?” _

_ “I was expecting you to keep talking,” _ Akihiko had admitted, laughing as well, and Ken wished they could’ve been having this conversation in the same kitchen together. Maybe it’d make it easier.  _ “What were you gonna call me about? Did you get in a fight?” _

_ “I haven’t done that since I was fifteen,”  _ Ken responded, snorting.  _ “No, I wanted to ask you about….” _ Come on, he knew he could spit it out.  _ “I wanted to ask you about how to confess to someone.” _

There was another pause, and Ken rocked on the balls of his feet as he went to check the curry again once setting the rice on heat, waiting for a response.  _ “Dad? You still there?” _

_ “Yeah, yeah, I am,”  _ Akihiko responded, and Ken could visualize the way he was rubbing his neck as he said that paired with the uncertainty in his voice.  _ “You have a crush on someone?” _

_ “No, I just want to tell Koromaru how much I care about him,” _ Ken had said, easily slipping into a sarcastic attitude with Akihiko like he’d done when he was younger. Koromaru barked from the other side of the room in acknowledgement, which made the pair chuckle, lightening the situation.

_ “Ah… I don’t know how much help I’ll be in this department,”  _ Akihiko told him. 

Ken hummed, stirring aimlessly before putting the lid back on the pot.  _ “Can’t miss the shots you don’t take.” _

_ “I don’t need you parroting what I say back at me, young man.” _

The brunet snorted out a laugh at that.  _ “Then don’t be a hypocrite, dad.” _

_ “Smartass,” _ Akihiko had called him, but it was affectionate. Probably would have been paired with a hair ruffle if he’d been there. He then took a deep breath, exhaling thoughtfully after.  _ “Well, I guess a confession would depend on the type of person you want to confess to. What are they like?” _

It’d been Ken’s turn to pause, biting his lip carefully like he didn’t want to respond. Saying it out loud meant it’d be real. Something he couldn’t turn his back on while he still could to himself, even if everyone else could tell. Realizing he was delaying answering, he let out an “uh” to start, and he could hear the way Akihiko was struggling not to laugh in amusement.  _ “He’s nice.” _

_ “Nice?” _ Akihiko repeated back, and Ken could hear the eyebrow raise in his voice.

_ “I wasn’t done,” _ Ken explained, feeling his ears turn pink.  _ “He’s sweet. Really caring, but you wouldn’t know if you let everyone else tell you what he was.”  _ He could hear Akihiko sitting back in the background noise of the call, which made the brunet relax too.  _ “He’s goofy and has a really nice smile- like, the kind that makes you stop and stare. He’s also way too willing to help people even when he shouldn’t. He got his ass kicked once in solidarity with someone else since they were going to beat him up too.”  _ The story made Ken laugh, remembering the matching bruises Ryuji and Akira wore after their confrontation with the track club. Ken had helped get ointment and bandages for any scrapes they had with Ann, and it was nice to feel included in  _ something _ even if he did scold them for letting it happen.

His caretaker hummed thoughtfully.  _ “Sounds like a fun guy,” _ Akihiko commented, chuckling gently.  _ “Maybe he’ll loosen you up.” _

_ “What does that mean?” _

_ “Ah,” _ Akihiko had responded, and Ken could hear the shrug in his tone, a shrug that signaled that he wasn’t going to keep talking about that topic.  _ “Maybe ask him out to an arcade or something? A letter or chocolates may be too formal.” _

_ “An arcade?”  _ Ken repeated back, having thought the idea at the time was dumb. Childish, even. 

_ “You asked and I gave you an answer!”  _ Akihiko had pointed out in retaliation, laughing.  _ “Seriously, Ken. You don’t need to do everything by the book. What matters is you both enjoy yourselves. Aaaaaaand that I also get an update on how it went as your curious and concerned father.” _

Ken rolled his eyes.  _ “Alright, dad, I _ promise  _ I’ll do just that.” _

Akihiko had needed to leave after that, getting a call from the police station about coming in for an extra shift, and he wished Ken good luck and told him he loved him. When he was younger, Ken never said it back. He thought it was lame, thought it was something people said and never meant. He hadn’t told anyone he loved them since his mother died so long ago.

_ “I love you too, dad. Take care,” _ Ken said, ending the call with a tap to his phone screen.

That memory was still in the back of Ken’s mind, how he had to admit somewhere along the line he’d found people he enjoyed being with. It was different from S.E.E.S.; he wasn’t a liability, wasn’t someone they looked down on for his age. He was viewed as an equal, not as a kid. He was even respected when he told the Thieves about the Dark Hour, about how he’d fought shadows just like them, that he understood what they were doing and they understood him in turn. It was a feeling of acceptance Ken didn’t think he’d experience (it was a one in a million chance after all, who else in the whole world would know what he meant when he discussed shadows and personas?), a feeling that made Ken happy to get up to go to school, to go talk to others, to make friends and live life how he wanted to rather than how he thought he should.

Was that what Akihiko meant?


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally finished this a year later bc i've been struggling with writers block for this piece. its been at ~1.8k roughly for Months but i finished it a few nights ago and i'm finally satisfied with it! <3 to everyone who has been waiting for this, i'm sorry for the wait and i hope you enjoy the conclusion!
> 
> **where to find me at:** [cantfoolajoker](https://cantfoolajoker.tumblr.com/) (tumblr)  
**beta reader:** [yuzanagi](https://yuzanagi.tumblr.com/) (tumblr)  


Akira liked to help people. It was an admirable trait, sure, but Ken considered some people beyond what help could be provided to them. 

Akira had quirked an eyebrow at that, placing his hands on his hips and bending down to be at eye level across the counter at Leblanc. Ken tried to avoid his gaze, instead focusing on his textbook and notes in front of him, though his neck felt hot underneath his collar the longer he knew gray eyes were on him.

_“Why do you say that?” _Akira asked, finally pulling back and moving to set the glass he was cleaning down.

Ken had let out a “huh?”, followed by an “oh” upon looking up and seeing the focus in Akira’s gaze that told him he wasn’t going to let this go. He was stubborn. Stubborn like how people said Ken was, so he guessed this was what it was like to be on the receiving end of his own medicine.

_“Well, sometimes people do bad things,”_ Ken had answered, shrugging.

_“People do things for a reason,” _Akira pointed out in turn, easily moving to swipe the glass and return to running a rag over it before setting it underneath the counter. 

_“Sometimes those reasons are bad.”_

_“Sure, they may be,” _Akira had said, shrugging himself, but it was what he followed up with that stuck with Ken. _“But sometimes, the reasons help you understand where they’re coming from, even if what they did was bad.”_

Was that why Shinjiro had taken pity on him? Because he understood where Ken stood?

Ken carried the burden of Shinjiro Aragaki’s death with him wherever he went. Everyone told him it wasn’t his fault. That it was Shinjiro’s choice for what he did, not Ken’s. It didn’t change the heavy feeling of his spear in his hands, the way he stared up at Shinjiro and pointed the blade directly at his chest that October night and threatened to kill him regardless of whether he begged for his life or not.

At the time, Ken didn’t understand what Shinjiro meant by the burden he would carry if he killed him. The brunet could feel it now, though. The weight of the thought that he was willing to take someone’s life crushed him, regardless of what Shinjiro did, by accident or not. Ken had learned his lesson; an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.

Still, he carried the memory of Shinjiro tightly, never allowing himself to forget what he almost did. A reminder to keep himself in check.

Akira served as a check for Ken as well, though in a less heavy-hearted way. Whenever Ken got hot-headed, feeling his anger take over, Akira was there to stop him from getting into trouble. Granted, it was a two-way street, as Akira himself needed reminders not to cause too much trouble either, or to be safe when doing so. Ken wondered if this was how Akihiko and Shinjiro felt about each other back then. Akira and Akihiko would probably get along far too well if Ken ever got to introduce them to each other.

Ken eventually did meet someone who put Akira’s philosophy to the test, a day that he remembered still in the back of his mind he waited for answers. He’d been sitting in Leblanc, doing his homework while he waited for Akira to wrap up a Thieves meeting elsewhere and making small talk with Sojiro. It was easy to appeal to the man’s fatherly nature as a student living alone, despite the fact he still had a caretaker. The man had a lot of love to give, which Ken had picked up on from the way he interacted with the others. He was simply happy Sojiro accepted him just as much as he did the rest.

The bell at the entrance rang as the door opened, and Ken perked up, wondering if a certain black-haired individual was back early, but instead, a nicely dressed brunet was standing there, briefcase in hand. Sojiro greeted him as he did with every customer, though he seemed to know who he was, which Ken picked up on with intrigue. Was he a frequent customer like Ken? He seemed familiar, though Ken couldn’t place from where.

The brunet nodded in greeting to Sojiro, not paying Ken a glance as he moved to set his briefcase on the counter, preferring the middle seat of the counter rather than the first available spot. Odd. Ken pouted his lower lip thoughtfully at that, wondering if he normally sat there. Regardless, he went back to work on his notes rather than focus on the brunet, ignoring the gnawing sense of familiarity at the back of his mind.

They sat in relative silence, with the newcomer catching up with Sojiro while Ken worked. The two knew each other clearly, clueing in Ken that his observation about him being a regular was correct. It wasn’t until Ken’s phone went off that the brunet looked at him, a look of surprise on his face.

_“Oh, is that the _Phoenix Ranger Featherman R_ intro?”_ he had asked suddenly, before pausing, appearing to have realized that may have been a bit random and backing down almost immediately.

Ken decided to humor him. He was admittedly a huge fan still, even if he tried to keep it on the down-low in favor of looking more grown-up. _“Yeah, it is. Do you watch it?”_

The brunet held his pause, looking hesitant. _“Yes,”_ he admitted, his shoulders relaxing as he spoke. _“I haven’t been able to watch it due to work.”_

_Work? He looks the same age as me._

The two continued to converse, Ken noting that the other was gradually beginning to relax from his previous stiff posture. That was when he learned his name: Goro Akechi. 

It made the familiarity understandable in hindsight, what with Akechi usually being on television, participating in interviews or news reports. The put together persona that was usually projected there wasn’t being shown then to Ken; Akechi was more awkward, still charismatic in how he spoke and held himself, but he was notably prone to excited rambling. It felt like Ken was talking to a younger version of himself almost, despite knowing they were the same age.

That wasn’t the only time he saw him in Leblanc; their schedules would match up sometimes and allow for more conversation, the two easing into it after stilted greetings due to the casual atmosphere. Akira sometimes joined when he was on shift, though Ken picked up on something that felt… off.

It wasn’t his jealousy getting the better of him (though he admittedly was unable to stop the twist in his stomach when he saw the two share a lingering glance or brush hands), as he’d overheard the other thieves opinions on Akechi during one of their meetings in Akira’s room.

_“Guy’s a scumbag,”_ Ryuji had commented, tilting his neck until it popped loudly, earning a disgusted look from Ann and the back of her hand colliding with his stomach.

_“He’s just kinda full of himself,”_ Futaba said, shrugging her shoulders as her fingers flew across her keyboard. _“Have you_ seen _his Instagram? All it is is selfies of him and food.”_

_“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,”_ Makoto hummed, _“Maybe he just likes to eat as a hobby?”_

_“Sounds like someone we know,”_ Ken said with a snicker, turning into a laugh as he received his own hit from Ann.

_“The composition is quite remarkable though-”_

_“That’s not the point, Yusuke,”_ Ryuji said with a sigh, crossing his arms as he interrupted the other thief.

_“Y’know, he’s not all bad,”_ Akira said as the stairs creaked under his feet, holding a pot of freshly made coffee in his hands and beginning to refill some of the scattered cups around their makeshift table.

_“Oh c’mon- you’re not defending him now, are you?” _Ryuji asked, giving Akira one of his unimpressed lidded looks. Akira hummed and shrugged his shoulders, filling Ken’s mug before standing straighter with his hand on his hip.

_“I just said he’s not all that bad,”_ the thief leader repeated. _“Maybe try hanging out with him sometime, Ryuji,”_ Akira suggested, though his smirk gave away he knew what he was saying would get a poor reaction. And a poor reaction was definitely given, Ryuji squawking with offense, beginning to heatedly argue about why he didn’t want to do that as Akira walked back downstairs laughing as he went.

Ken had mixed feelings, unlike his friends. He wasn’t totally against the detective-like some of the more outspoken phantom thieves, though he also wasn’t in agreement with the relaxed and friendly atmosphere Akira held with him either. It was an odd middle ground he found himself standing in. 

Maybe it was because he saw a part of himself in Akechi that made him sympathetic but wary; the air of carefully constructed maturity, the anger at the world hidden behind easy smiles, and the idea that maybe, just maybe, Akechi had something going on as the cogs in his brain worked the same way eight-year-old Ken had sworn to avenge his mother.

Ken had always written it off. He didn’t want to be making assumptions, especially ones with the implication of someone making a mistake similar to his. Instead, he carefully packaged up those feelings and put them on a shelf somewhere in him to collect dust and be forgotten.

The feelings hadn’t been allowed to be forgotten though. Fate was never that kind.

When Ken arrived at Leblanc on November 21st, he was informed by Sojiro the rest of the thieves were waiting upstairs. He was fairly certain they heard him first, as the group was sitting in silence for once, though it wasn’t mournful.

Someone said his name, but Ken couldn’t place who it was, not with the growing anger in him that there was definitely something he hadn’t been told.

“I’m here,” he stated plainly, keeping his distance with tense posture. “Tell me what happened to Akira.”

Makoto stood up from her seat across the table, holding her hands up like she was attempting to motion for him to calm down. _She_ was the one who had told him to show up, so the actions only served to further enrage him. _I’m not a kid_, he wanted to tell her.

“Would you like to sit down?” she offered, motioning to the chair occupied by Ryuji’s feet where he’d propped them up while waiting. Ken exhaled and gave her a look, which made her retract her hands and softly say, “Alright then.”

There was a beat of silence after that. Ken found his nails digging into his palms.

“What happened?” he asked, his barely concealed anger leaking out around the strained words.

“It’s a… long story,” Futaba explained, tilting her head as she spoke. She was choosing her words wisely. They all knew Ken was furious.

“Lucky you, I cleared my schedule,” he responded, a snarl in his words.

Ryuji was the first one to touch Ken; a hand clamped on his shoulder, something grounding him to existence at that moment. “Calm down, dude, we’ll get there,” he told him, meeting Ken’s eyes when he turned to look at him without so much as flinching.

He was treating him like he was on even ground. Ken tried to relax, loosening his tense shoulders to the best of his ability.

The story went a little like this; picture Akira, sitting in the interrogation room after being outed as the leader of the phantom thieves. He was awaiting his interrogation and sentencing when in walked Goro Akechi (Ken remembered that name instantly). This was a ruse to get Akira alone so Akechi could kill him and frame it as a suicide. But, one thing that he underestimated was the power of cognition and utilizing someone’s cognitive world to place a decoy to be killed, allowing the real Akira to walk free.

It was so confusing to Ken. His mind could barely wrap around the whole story.

“So — Akira’s alive.” That was the main thing Ken was getting out of this. The main thing he wanted to come out of this.

That received a collective nod among the thieves. Ken sighed, feeling the tension leave his body until the only thing remaining was the nervous, anxiety-driven trembling in his hands and his heart.

What happened next happened so fast; first, an older woman bearing a resemblance to Makoto appeared at the staircase and requested for them all to come downstairs into the main cafe. She introduced herself as Sae Niijima, addressing some of the concerns of the other thieves before the sound of the bell chiming caught all their attention.

“Look who’s here.”

_Akira._

…

It was a good few hours until they had a moment alone.

The thieves crowded Akira and spoiled him with hugs and comments of praise. He deserved it after all; staring down a gun was hard. Ken knew that from personal experience.

Still, the bruises didn’t escape Ken’s notice. Neither did the clear ache in Akira’s step and the way he flinched at certain movements. He was aware of the polices’ way of handling things; hell, he’d heard Akihiko complain more than enough that it was cruel. It was too violent and didn’t achieve anything but abuse of power against someone who had no protection to their name.

“Akira, do you need me to check your wounds?”

Akira appeared surprised by that. “What — what do you mean?”

He looked like a deer in the headlights. Caught off guard. Why was he caught off guard?

Ken took a step closer, bringing a hand up to his face where a purple bruise was on his jaw, and he was just shy of cupping his face. His hand hovered over the area, only a few centimeters of space between them. “Uh,” Ken only made a noise.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Akira stepped back, creating distance between the two before settling down on his attic bed. “Sure,” Akira finally responded, and he gave a nod of his head toward his workbench. “I think there’s a first aid kit over there.”

Ken quickly picked it up. He had treated his own injuries as a kid picking fights, so he knew the general basics of what to do.

He used up most of the bandaging in the kit to replace Akira’s after cleaning them. Ken couldn’t help but wince at some of them. Akira must have caught on, because Ken heard him utter a soft “sorry”.

“No, no, don’t be sorry,” Ken told him, carefully wrapping a bandage around his arm. “You just look — “

“Terrible, right?” Akira cut him off with a hollow laugh.

Ken paused and bit his lip. Even now, Akira was making light of his suffering in favor of Ken’s comfort.

“No,” he told him adamantly. “You look — “ Ken was struggling for words. “You look brave.”

“....That wasn’t what I was expecting you to say.”

“What did you expect me to say?”

“I dunno, hot or something.”

Ken’s face turned bright red at that. “No, no. You’re hurt, Akira.”

“Yeah? And? Some people are into that.”

“Can you _please_ stop?” Ken finally snapped, eyes closed in frustration, and when he opened them he saw the expression on Akira’s face. It was… surprised? Shocked? 

There’s a pause, and when Ken opened his mouth to apologize, Akira turned his head away and only nodded. “Alright. Yeah, that’s fair.”

Ken pressed his lips together tightly before continuing the bandage work.

There was a time when Ken had seen Akihiko cry; it was the anniversary of October 4th, around when Ken was about thirteen or fourteen years old. Akihiko had stood in front of their shared shrine for Ken’s mother and Shinjiro, and Ken had stood in the doorway as Akihiko cried.

_“A — Akihiko?”_ He was caught off guard, he didn’t know how to address him.

Akihiko had straightened up immediately at the sound of Ken’s voice, making the movement to wipe under his nose with his wrist carefully before turning to Ken. _“Hey, kiddo,”_ he had responded, light-hearted as ever. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were red.

Ken walked into the room to join him in silent prayer. It was somber for a long while. Only when Ken turned to leave did Akihiko stop him.

_“Do me a favor, Ken.”_

_“Yeah? What is it?”_

“If you love someone, please just let them know.” There’s a pause. “B_efore it’s — before it’s too late, you know?”_

It had been an open secret in SEES that Akihiko had been in love with Shinjiro. The two had been inseparable for years, so maybe that was to be expected. Akihiko had acted differently around Shinjiro; there were more fond looks, more subtle egging on and pestering. It was targeted, as though Shinjiro had a big sign on his back welcoming any social interaction with Akihiko.

Ken was pretty certain had Shinjiro not died, Shinjiro would’ve admitted to returning the feelings. Even during the summer festival, the brief moments he saw through his ten-year-old eyes had told him they were in love with each other. Also, that their lovey-doveyness was gross, but in his defense, he had been ten.

Akihiko’s words hit Ken in that moment.

_If Akira had died, I wouldn’t be able to tell him how I feel._

Maybe it had only been for a year. But that year changed Ken. Akira had changed Ken, in a good way. Ken looked forward to spending time with Akira and seeing him smile and hearing his laughter. 

“Ken — ? “

Oh, he was crying. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“Sorry, I — “ Ken choked on his sob despite the smile on his lips. “I don’t know what came over me.”

_I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to make another spot next to mom and Shinjiro._

There were arms around him. Ken folded into Akira’s arms easily, careful with where he wrapped his arms back in order to avoid any injuries. His face found the nook of his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” Akira’s voice was at a whisper, something only for Ken to hear.

“Akira.” Ken couldn’t help but repeat his name. “Akira, I — “

“I love you.”

The words hit Ken’s ears with a loud ringing left to them. Akira gave him a gentle squeeze of encouragement, something comforting and warm in his shock.

“I love you too,” Ken finally responded, finally letting out a sob that he was choking on.

…

_I am thou, thou art I_

_Thou has turned a vow into a blood oath._

_Thy bond shall become the wings of rebellion_

_And break the yoke of thy heart._

_Thou hast awakened to the ultimate secret_

_Of the Hierophant arcana, granting thee infinite power._

[ You can now fuse Kala-Nemi. ]


End file.
